Reclaiming Peace
by Angel Leviathan
Summary: He felt a peace within the group that had been absent, now that he thought about it, for many years. Spoilers for Threads.


Title: Reclaiming Peace

Author: Angel Leviathan

Spoilers: Anything, everything, **Threads**

Season: 8

Disclaimer: SG-1, characters, concept, etc, don't belong to me.

Notes: Just something I had to write. My laptop hard-drive has failed, so I apologise for no updates being made to fics until it's fixed. Just to say I've given up on 'Time Will Tell'; I was only trying to get to one scene I couldn't quite write into 'Eight Easy Steps'. Hope people like this. Set after '**Threads'**.

-

"I said you didn't want me cooking!"

"Yeah, you _are_ the only person I know who can ruin 'just add water' food…" Daniel shot back, poking his head round the door from the kitchen to the living room.

"Hey!"

"He's right, hey, back me up," Jack's voice could be heard from the same room.

"Indeed," Teal'c commented, "I believe we all recall the incident with the baking powder."

Sam suddenly took a great interest in flicking through the TV channels, "I forgot. That was all," she answered, trying to retain an air of dignity.

"Who could forget the day of the flat-cake?" Jack teased.

"Uncooked flat-cake," Daniel added.

"Quit it!" she protested, as she got up from the couch and wandered into the kitchen. She appeared in the doorway, hands on her hips, "What are you guys, kings of the microwave?"

"I resent that!" Jack turned round and swiped at her, catching her nose with a grin.

"We could bring up the exploding food in the microwave story…" Daniel proposed.

"…I think we can do without that…" Sam's eyes nearly crossed as she tried to see what was on her nose. She soon discovered it was some form of tomato sauce, "Very funny."

"I thought so," the culprit smirked, "Maybe we should have brought the rods in. Fish might be biting."

"You mean the imaginary fish?" Sam smiled.

"I've become quite well aquatinted with them over the years."

"Do they have names?"

"Nah. Didn't I tell you? That's why we're here. To name the imaginary fish," he handed her a plate of microwave cuisine, "Enjoy. It took a lot of time to make."

"Yeah, its amazingly exciting watching food spin round for three minutes," Daniel quipped.

"Times four!" Jack reminded him.

"Should we not return to the 'fish' in the lake?" Teal'c questioned.

He grinned, "See, he's getting it. He's finally catching on," he laughed quietly as he led the group back outside, where the eating of microwave meals and the false engrossment in 'fishing' recommenced.

-

The evening found the four team-mates in the living room, slouched on two couches, on their second bottle of wine, Teal'c, as always, keeping to the soft drinks, and so on his second bottle of cola.

"…We caught no fish…" Jack uttered in a mournful tone.

"You really do want there to be fish in that lake, don't you?" Daniel stated.

"If you really want, I'll find a fish mongers and buy you a fish so you can say you caught it," Sam smiled and nudged him.

"What would you actually do if you caught a fish anyway?" the archaeologist questioned.

Jack paused in thought, "…I guess I never really thought about it…" he replied, frowning.

Teal'c raised an eyebrow, about to make a comment, before the General stopped him;

"Alright, alright, I've already got these two mocking the lake and the fish, don't you start too!"

Daniel frowned, "…I thought we were mocking _you_…"

Sam nodded in agreement, daring to shoot a grin up at Jack, "That's what I thought."

"I'm going to say its the wine talking and so refuse to take offence," the would-be fisherman glared at them before he glanced across at the wine bottle, "Wow, empty already. And Daniel isn't on the floor! Impressive."

"Very funny," he yawned, "Sorry guys, but I think I'm gonna go get some sleep."

"At least you aren't drunkenly dancing."

Daniel paused as he stood up, "…When did I ever-" he held up a hand, "Don't tell me. If I don't remember, I don't want to know."

"I think its best for us all that way," Jack nodded.

"Night guys."

"See you in the morning."

"Goodnight, DanielJackson," Teal'c stood up, "I believe I shall attempt to sleep as well."

"Shameful, T, truly shameful."

"SamanthaCarter appears to have already fallen in to such a state of sleep," Teal'c had sensed more than he would ever dare let on; had noticed the lack of 'Sir's' from Sam's conversations with her CO, and the fact that the man in question had never once on the trip referred to her as 'Carter'. He felt a peace within the group that had been absent, now that he thought about it, for many years.

"I'm supposed to be the old man around here and you lot are sitting here collapsing around me," Jack shook his head, "Disgraceful," his voice was quiet as he realised that Sam was indeed asleep, slumped comfortably against him.

"I believe I am standing, O'Neill. And I am many years older than yourself," the Jaffa started from the room.

"To sleep, oh pedantic one," he called after him, "Sleep well."

"Yourself as well," were the final words from Teal'c that evening.

Jack glanced down at Sam, reluctant to move in case he woke her. If he was honest, he was more reluctant to move because it would mean breaking the contact with her; he hadn't been this close to her in a long time. The past couple of days had brought home to him just how much of a farce the past few years had been. They had laughed together, smiled and supposedly been enjoying themselves…he should have noticed when they started faking the smiles, ones that never reached their eyes. The ones that lasted a mere second and were only shot at each other because they felt it was 'necessary'. They hadn't talked, they hadn't supported each other like they had in the beginning, they hadn't spent time together outside of work. And because they didn't, the team didn't. It had never hit him before just how much their struggle to remain professional had affected the team; silently ripping them apart until it was impossible for them to be honestly open and caring with each other, how they used to be without thinking. He didn't know when it had begun. When they kept it in the room? Before then? When Daniel died and nobody dared speak about it? When reaching out to each other became something unthinkable? As he watched her, Sam shifted slightly in her sleep and smiled ever so slightly. He reached out and ran a gentle finger down her jaw-line, smiling as she exhaled and made a contented noise deep in her throat. She looked peaceful, peaceful and honestly relaxed, not the controlled detachment and calm airs she had been putting on for what seemed like forever. Jack finally moved away, lowering her gently to the couch and pulling the throw from the back to cover her.

"…Jack…?" Sam said softly, opening her eyes and searching for him. She used his name without hesitation; she hadn't requested 'permission' and she hadn't been ordered to. It was just something else that suddenly seemed safe and secure to do, despite there having been no actual 'conversation' about the dramatic shift that had suddenly occurred without words.

"Go back to sleep," he said softly, "I didn't mean to wake you."

She reached for his hand as he tucked the throw around her, "…I'm glad we finally did this…" she uttered, the faint glimmer of a smile in her eyes.

Jack smiled and kissed her forehead, hovering for a moment, not wanting to leave her, "Me too."

She returned the smile as her eyes fell shut again, hand still holding his.

He stayed with her, content just to watch her sleep, afraid he would wake up at any moment.

Because he knew she meant so much more than the fishing.

-

Fin


End file.
